


Snakes in the Grass

by Gelsey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_humpdrabbles, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:45:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamora Zabini was a snake in the grass, but Tom could not deny—she fascinated him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snakes in the Grass

She was a snake in the grass. Tom Riddle could tell by the way she moved, a slow full body sway like a dancing cobra. By the peculiar green color of her eyes, flat and cold and reptilian. By the hood of power he could sense around her, ready to flare out like a viper’s at any provocation.

Tamora Zabini was a snake in the grass, but Tom could not deny—she fascinated him. His reptilian nature was attracted to hers. But she was dangerous, venomous. She could poison him, strike out against him.

Yet, Tom kept after her. He watched from some grass of his own as she wooed and won yet another rich pureblood. Watched as, once again, the wizard inexplicably fell ill and died, leaving her his fortune. Yes, Tamora was a snake, and a very successful one at that. Her reputation was not that far from his, in some aspects.

“How do you do it?” he asked her one day after one of Lucius’ parties. As rich as she was, as pureblooded, of course she had been invited.

Her face was smooth, impassive, and yet coldly amused. “Do what?” she asked.

“Kill them,” he replied, as calmly as if discussing the weather. 

“I don’t.” Her viper eyes pinned on him, but he met them as unflinchingly as a snake handler. She was deciding, he could tell even without Legilimency, if and how she should strike at him. 

He moved faster than her, snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her close. Tamora jerked, trying to slither away, but he held her closer. “How dare you?” she hissed.

“How dare I?” he echoed, the same dangerous hiss in his voice. “I am Tom Riddle. I do anything I wish.”

She jerked again, trying to get the leverage to slap him. His hand went into her hair, holding it still. He could feel her magic swell and pulse, but his own rose to match it. The give and take, the struggle, was sensuous. Tom Riddle thrust against her and this time she thrust back, and then they were two predators entwined, trying to devour one another.

“I hate you,” she cried as he impaled her. 

“You don’t know how to hate,” was his reply. “Just like I don’t know how to hate.” It wasn’t possible, for creatures such as them.

Tamora clenched around him. “If I could hate, I would hate you.”

He pulsed into her, chuckling low and dark. “If you could love, you would also love me.”

She did not reply—but he came away from their encounter alive. For a snake, perhaps that was love. 

Tom let her live, as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp_humpdrabbles for numbaby.


End file.
